Discipleship in a Politically Polarised Age
I am a Pentecostal, I am not Evangelical, whilst also serving for a time on the board of the Evangelical Alliance in the UK. I say that to say many of the challenges written in “Losing our Religion”[1] and “Jesus and the Powers”[2] are not unique to Evangelicalism in America. The globalisation of the world has changed the way national and religious cultures now interact. Similarities abound globally.
What do you currently believe about the relationship between Christian faith and political engagement?
The relationship between Christian faith and political engagement is a contested space, filled with passion, history, and, too often, compromise. I grew up with an instinctive wariness of politics in church spaces. Formed by Scripture, pastoral experiences, and public failures of Christian leaders, I have understood the tension between prophetic engagement and perceived partisan entanglement. Scripturally, the gospel is not apolitical. The early church’s declaration that “Jesus is Lord” was a confrontation of Kingdoms. Yet this engagement continues to demand wisdom, not domination. Jesus’ political posture, as N.T. Wright and Michael Bird argue that power structures are challenged through sacrificial love, not coercion.[3] Still, many Christians and Pastors are hesitant when faith becomes publicly political, unsure whether it’s discipleship or ideological drift. Our formation in culturally saturated, media-driven environments can often shape our instincts more than the words of Jesus. The result is a deeper tension, the call to witness versus the fear of worldly corruption, and for many pastors, the impact it has on the attendance and giving rates of church congregations.
How do you understand the rise of Christian nationalism, and in what ways have evangelicals, particularly in Western democracies, been complicit in fusing faith with political identity?
Nowhere is that tension more visible than in the rise of so-called Christian nationalism. In Losing Our Religion, Russell Moore speaks with the pain of someone who has seen his theological tribe barter orthodoxy for access.[4] Nationalism, particularly in the American context, at times, seems to disguise political idolatry in religious language. Sceptics may argue that Evangelicals, seeking to preserve influence, have sometimes theologically merged partisan platforms as kingdom agendas, forgetting that Jesus challenged all ideologies, including right and left. Faithful public witness, as Moore and Wright intimate throughout, is marked by cruciform courage and by control. Christians must be in “the room where it happens,”[5] as Wright puts it, but never to endorse power for its own sake. The litmus test seems simple. Does our public faith look like Jesus, humble, just, sacrificial, and merciful? Or are we using Jesus to bless our friends and curse our enemies?
How do progressive Christians, including those who have left traditional church structures, risk becoming captive to political and consumer ideologies?
Progressive Christianity, often emerging in post-evangelical spaces, risks replacing Jesus with a skewed “kingdom” ideology. In some corners, theology is subordinated to justice slogans, inclusion becomes a doctrine in itself, and the church becomes a community centre for progressive values. When Jesus Christ becomes functionally absent, replaced by vague spiritualism or political rhetoric, we lose the transforming centre of our faith. Oliver O’Donovan reminds us that Christian political engagement must remain anchored in the gospel’s vision of justice and peace, not the latest cultural consensus. He says, “Theology is the politics that says that God is king, that there is authority that is given, external to us, and recognition of this authority is the beginning of our politics and the possibility of public well‑being.”[6] Even justice, severed from the just One, loses its power to redeem. The church’s role is not to echo the left or the right, but to be an alternative politic altogether.
How can Christian leaders disciple communities whose political and moral imaginations are shaped by social media, party politics, or identity movements rather than by Scripture or the life of Christ?
This raises a critical question for leaders today: how do we disciple people whose imaginations are shaped more by TikTok than by Timothy, more by party politics than Scripture? Our role as preachers is to reframe narratives, exposing anything that rivals Christ. Not in a militant manner, but with grace. It is what Hauerwas and Willimon describe as a “colony of heaven,”[7] distinct but engaged, holy but not aloof. This means forming communities marked by biblical practices, cruciform leadership, and humility. We must help believers develop theological reflexes, not just political opinions. Our pulpits must become places where people learn not what to think, but how to think Christianly in a complex world.
After engaging with the texts and these questions, what do you now believe about politics, faith, and the dangers of ideological discipleship?
I am more convinced than ever that ideological discipleship apart from scriptural hermeneutics is a threat to the gospel. But I am also hopeful. At least we are now talking about it. It is now in print in books. There are enough dissenting voices not to merely flow with the Zeitgeist of the era in which we live. Our Christian political witness must be both prophetic and pastoral, graciously naming idolatry and nurturing hope. As a leader, I want to disciple people into this paradox, to be both courageous and kind, engaged and distinct, clear and compassionate.
[1] Russell Moore, Losing Our Religion: An Altar Call for Evangelical America (New York: Sentinel, 2023).
[2] N.T. Wright and Michael F. Bird, Jesus and the Powers: Christian Political Witness in an Age of Totalitarian Terror and Dysfunctional Democracies (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Academic, 2024.
[3] Ibid, 3–15.
[4] Moore, Losing Our Religion, 7.
[5] Wright and Bird, Jesus and the Powers, 37.
[6] “Oliver O’Donovan on Political Theology,” Resources for Christian Theology, accessed September 5, 2025, https://resourcesforchristiantheology.org/oliver-odonovan-on-political-theology/.
[7] Stanley Hauerwas and William H. Willimon, Resident Aliens: Life in the Christian Colony (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1989), 38.
About the Author
Glyn Barrett
I am the founding & lead Pastor of !Audacious Church in Manchester, England. I was born in Manchester, but moved to Australia at the age of two. My wife and I were married in Australia and began married and ministry life in England 29 years ago. After serving as youth pastors for 12 years, we moved to Manchester to pioneer !Audacious Church. As a church we now have 7 locations. 3 in Manchester, Chester, Cardiff (Wales), Sheffield, and Geneva (Switzerland). In 2019 I became the National Leader of Assemblies of God in Great Britain. We have over 650 churches in our movement and have planted 98 new churches since May 2022 with a goal of planting 400 new churches between May 2022 and May 2028. I am the Global Chair for Church planting for Assemblies of God which currently has 420,000 churches and also chair Empowered21 Europe. I'm happily married to Sophia, with two children, one dog and two motorbikes. I love Golf, coffee and spending time with friends. I love to laugh, make friends and create memories!6 responses to “Discipleship in a Politically Polarised Age”
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Glyn,
You are one of the best evangelicals I know!
I do think that we are coming from a similar platform on this topic but I also understand that your public platform and geographic area is different than mine. I appreciate your nuanced approach and focus on the kingdom. Can you give an example of “how to get people to think Christianly in a complex world?” What does that look like?
Adam, thank you, my friend, that means a lot, especially coming from you.
To your question, “What does it look like to help people think Christianly in a complex world?” I think it begins with reframing formation. Most people today are being discipled far more by algorithms than by Scripture. Thinking Christianly isn’t simply about absorbing Christian ideas; it’s about cultivating the values and ideals of Christ.
Practically, that means shaping how our communities interpret what they see and feel before they react. For example, when cultural outrage erupts online, our instinct as believers shouldn’t be, “What does my tribe think?” but, “How might Jesus respond?” or “WWJD?” We teach this through immersive Scripture reading, honest dialogue, and embodied practices like serving those unlike us. It’s discipleship that forms reflexes, not just opinions.
When a Christian can look at a headline, an ideology, or even a policy debate and first ask, “Where is the Cross in this?” we’re starting to think Christianly. That’s slow work, but it’s transformative work.
Glyn
You state “There are enough dissenting voices not to merely flow with the Zeitgeist of the era in which we live.” In your context, can you give an example of a dissenting voice. I know every country has its issues, but is there someone specific in the UK who might be speaking out on some of the policies of parliament?
Jeff, great question, and yes, I do think there are some genuine dissenting voices here in the UK. One that comes to mind is Justin Brierley, the broadcaster and author best known for Unbelievable? and more recently The Surprising Rebirth of Belief in God.
Brierley has been a measured but prophetic voice in the British landscape, refusing to be swept along by either the secular progressive tide or the reactionary religious right. His work engages contemporary culture, science, and politics with intellectual clarity and deep faith, often hosting conversations that hold tension without hostility. I think he models what dissent looks like in our context: not shouting from the fringes, but reasoning from conviction. He challenges both cultural cynicism and church tribalism, pointing people back to the credibility of Christian belief in a post-Christian age.
In that sense, his voice embodies what I meant by not flowing with the Zeitgeist. He stands in the public square with conviction and civility, a reminder that dissent can be both courageous and Christlike.
Thanks Glynn. I especially like your comment, “When Jesus Christ becomes functionally absent, replaced by vague spiritualism or political rhetoric, we lose the transforming centre of our faith.” How do our communities, worship gatherings and liturgies, help us hold this centre?
Thanks, Ryan, I love that question. Our gatherings hold the centre when Jesus remains both the subject and object of our worship, not a means to a cause, but the cause Himself. Practices like Christ-centred cruciform preaching, testimonies, communion, and prayer keep re-centring us in His story rather than the world’s noise.